I had a theory, but I did not advance it then.
It was not until nearly dawn that my theory, and Bristol's, regarding the clutch arrangement, both were confirmed. For close under the railings which abut on Orpington Square, in a pool of blood we found just such an instrument as Bristol had described.
And still clutching it was a pallid and ghastly shrunken hand that had been severed from above the wrist!
"Merciful God!" whispered the inspector—"look at the opal ring on the finger! Look at the bandage where he cut himself on the broken window-glass that first night, when Mr. Mostyn disturbed him. It wasn't the Hashishin who stole the thing…. It's Earl Dexter's hand!"
No one spoke for a moment. Then—
"Which of them has—" began Mostyn huskily.
"The slipper of the Prophet?" interrupted Bristol. "I wonder if we shall ever know?"
Chapter 15
A SHRIVELLED HAND
Around a large square table in a room at New Scotland Yard stood a group of men, all of whom looked more or less continuously at something that lay upon the polished deal. One of the party, none other than the Commissioner himself, had just finished speaking, and in silence now we stood about the gruesome object which had furnished him with the text of his very terse address.